


Tired

by nupoxsi



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Sibling Incest, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nupoxsi/pseuds/nupoxsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things don’t always go as expected, not even when plans are believed to be bulletproof. And <em>their</em> plan, the one they have built together, the one that once seemed to be flawless, is slowly crumbling down. For months, Vegard has avoided affronting the issue, he has tried to live with the facts and concentrate on the good things of their relationship. But one by one, these good things are starting to fade away. </p><p>Bård is tired, and Vegard doesn’t know what else to do to make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ylvisucka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ylvisucka/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Marcela! ♥ I hope you like this. Quite different from the things I usually write (aka fluff) but anyway, you wanted sad. So here I give you sad ylvicest.
> 
> Just picture this is after Ylvis 4 but before The Fox.

Touches have never felt so foreign, words have never been so hollow to his own ears. Vegard’s hands tremble in doubt, unsure how to proceed. Underneath him, Bård encourages him to keep going, and all Vegard can do is indulge his brother’s wishes.

How can lovers behave like strangers when they have known each other their whole lives? When they share the same bed night after night? How can brothers pretend nothing ties them together when the same blood runs through their veins? Vegard feels empty, as if he has finally given all he has to offer, given everything until all he has left is but a vacant space where his heart should be. And what has he gotten back from all the sleepless nights, the tender kisses, the constant ‘ _I love you_ ’s that once were too hard to say out loud? Nothing but pain.

Perhaps this was doomed to happen since the very beginning. Vegard is intelligent, but maybe not as much as he thinks he is. He should’ve known better than to think this love they shared would last forever. True, it felt so honest, so pure, so real, but things can never be that perfect. Everything is condemned to end. They were so young when they discovered their mutual attraction, the deep and complicated feelings harboured towards the other. So young, so naïve, so _stupidly_ in love. They truly believed they belonged in the other’s arms, there was no other place to call home. Or at least that’s what Vegard believed back then— what he still believes in. Even when his hands don’t undo his brother’s clothes anymore, when he’s only allowed to touch Bård whenever he tells him to, when his lips don’t get to kiss Bård’s. Even now, he thinks there will never be a place like Bård’s side.

Does that make him even more stupid than the eighteen years old that fell in love with his little brother?

He remembers how everything used to be so vividly, so bright. It devastates him deeply to see how all the things they have built together in the last decade crumbles down, brick by brick. And there’s nothing, absolutely nothing he can do to fix it. Their relationship shatters every time Bård looks at him with that cold indifferent gaze, as if he were but a stranger in a public place, just another face in a moving crowd. It has reached the point of not knowing what to do when Bård’s blue piercing gaze meets his own. In perspective, things were so different before, they felt real, they kept him moving and bright. Vegard can hardly believe this thing they have now is what’s left of what was a perfect relationship.

Longing for affection, contact, something— _any_ other than what he’s been given right now, Vegard throws his head to the inside of Bård’s neck. There are waves of pleasure rushing through his whole body with every roll of his hips. All the times he drives into Bård he feels himself closer and closer to release, but the hot knot tightening on his stomach has nothing to do with the heaviness in his heart. He tries to ignore his feelings for a moment, concentrating on keeping a fair pace.

Vegard doesn’t need to be told what to do, he knows what Bård wants. _Faster, stronger, rougher_. It has been the same for weeks now. His thrusts are consistent, but Bård’s response is as dry and redundant as it’s been the last couple of months. His lips, those rosy and inviting lips that Vegard once knew so well part open. Soundless gasps come out of his mouth as he throws his head backwards. Vegard would hate the lack of sounds from Bård, but, in fact, staring at him like this is the only way to know his brother still enjoys doing this. That much can’t be faked. The hands that often grabbed Vegard’s shoulders or back now remain at each side of his own body, clenching on the sheets. There’s no touching, no marking, no holding onto the other anymore. Their bodies simply don’t become one.

When did they turn into _this_?

With his head buried on the crook of Bård’s pale neck, Vegard breathes all of his scent in, trying to remember when was the last time he’d been so close to Bård. Yeah, he’s given him a couple of blowjobs in the past months, but this is different. This the kind of closeness they used to share on a daily basis, regardless of where they were or whatever people were around them. The affection he so dearly longs for. He draws in a deep breath and all he smells is Bård. While he keeps on rocking his hips with a steady rhythm, his lips hover on the soft skin, the one that doesn’t have a trail of sweat on. Vegard doesn’t control his movements, he can’t. His chapped lips press against the pale flesh, tongue darting out and licking on a spot that once drove Bård out of control. However, his brother’s response isn’t satisfactory.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bård hisses, irritation dripping from his low voice.

Maybe it is the seriousness in the tone he uses, or the lack of affection altogether, but Vegard’s hips stop their sharp movements, frozen in spot. What is he doing? He’s trying to find some love left beneath that cold exterior, beneath the person his brother has become. Because it must be there, right? Vegard feels the same as he felt ten, fifteen, twenty years ago— he loves Bård, and he can’t hide it, he can’t pretend he doesn’t feel the same as he’s felt before. He loves him and he wants to show him just how much. But apparently, Bård wants right the opposite. With a heavy heart, Vegard draws back, face completely expressionless.

“Nothing,” he replies, rolling his hips again. At the blunt movement, Bård throws his head back on the pillow, eyelids fluttering shut. Vegard repeats the motion, getting the same response from his brother.

How has it come down to this? To something so wonderful being reduced to no kisses, no touches, no caresses? How has he allowed them to forget about all the promises they made?

Vegard remembers those promises, each one of them. They have meant so much to him throughout the years, he simply can’t accept they’re meaningless to Bård. Because oh, how have those promises been forgotten by the younger brother. Vegard and Bård were supposed to go right, to love each other in the purest form of love, to stick together no matter what. The latest has remained, but is it what Vegard truly wants? To stay together when he can physically tell there’s no love left from the side of the relationship? Their bond has bent, but has it finally been broken?

If it’s true, and there’s nothing he can save from the excerpts of their once matchless relationship, who can he blame for it? Time? Fame? _Himself_?

Even when things were too good to be true and they seemed to be living a utopian life, Vegard often was self-conscious of the things he could provide to their relationship. It is no secret. Nonetheless, in his time of doubts, Bård was there without fail, always reminding him of his value. After months of establishing their more-than-brothers relationship, and also sharing a professional life together, Vegard would ask him, “ _have you gotten sick of me yet?_ ” To that, Bård would smile kindly to him, sometimes even clasp their hands together, and give him small kisses that seemed to last forever. And there, in between those loving pecks and gentle touches, there was the definition of love— or at least what love has always meant to Vegard.

“ _I haven’t,_ ” Bård would reply in a low voice, “ _don’t be stupid. I can never get tired of you._ ”

Without leaving room for hesitation, Vegard would believe in him as soon as the words left his mouth. There was no reason for Bård to lie about it, after all. There was absolutely nothing to hide between them. Their relationship was clear, they trusted each other in ways they’d never trust anyone else. Nevertheless, as Vegard’s own-doubts reappeared every once in a while, he kept asking Bård, needing the assurance his brother still wanted him. Regardless of where they found themselves at, Bård would always repeat his statement or utter variations of the same. And Vegard would trust his words. He’d listen to Bård, caring and understanding, and he’d feel loved.

Those loving years passed by, and Vegard enjoyed every single one of those days where the two would find home in each other’s arms. And then, all of the sudden, things simply started to crumble down.

There is not a particular reason whereby things changed between them, they just did. At least Vegard hasn’t been able to pinpoint any major event in their lives that might have forced them to change. But oh, things have changed so terribly, Vegard often longs for the past that’ll never be forgotten. In the past months, Bård has not explained why he behaves differently, not even once. Vegard has never asked him, either. He doesn’t have the courage to, utterly terrified of whatever answer his brother has to give. Bård could put an end to things, to whatever it is they have between them now, and Vegard doesn’t want that, not even if his heart keeps breaking with every rejected act of affection.

Vegard is dull, he is quite a boring person, that’s not a secret. While he knows a lot of things and tends to be passionate about the topics of his liking, he isn’t someone who likes to go to a lot of parties or to have recreational activities other than his custom ones. He does like to travel for both his work and his hunger for knowledge about other countries and their culture —something he shares with Bård—, but that’s it. That’s all he does. He constantly wondered how long it would Bård to realise how boring he is. Anyhow, Vegard never imagined it would take the younger brother around ten year to finally see it.

The lack of affection started with the scarcity of kisses, with Bård promptly eluding Vegard’s gaze whenever their eyes met, with the almost disappearance of physical contact. They would barely hug anymore, let alone hold hands, or cuddle, something that used to be the core of their relationship. Bård wouldn’t even tolerate his jokes anymore, he’d actually pay none to little attention to whatever input Vegard said. And it hurts him, it hurts him to see the only person who’s been there for him now turned into a stranger, someone who doesn’t truly seem to care for his emotions. It kills him inside, and maybe it hurts him even more than the mundane way in which they have sex now. No love left between them, just a carnal desire.

When Bård fucks him, he often turns Vegard around, forcing him to lay on his chest. Sometimes, when he’s lucky, Vegard finds himself in all four. In those rare occasions, Bård at least keeps a strong grip of his hips while he keeps a rhythm of his thrusts. Even during moments like now, when Vegard is the one driving into his brother, Bård keeps his eyes tightly shut. Is his face so hard to look at? Does it bring so many unpleasant memories? There used to be a time those blue irises were darkened by pupils blown by pure lust and desire, staring at Vegard as a fervent smile drew on his face. What happened to that? It’s nothing but a blurry memory in his mind now, something he wishes to happen again.

Too bad wishes don’t always come true.

With a final rock of his hips, Vegard reaches his climax. He grunts, but tries to keep his voice as low as he can, filling the condom with hot come. Twice, he thrusts his cock in and out, sharp movements that are enough to push Bård over the edge as well. On the third and final thrust, Bård strokes himself until he comes, the white stickiness covering his stomach. With a shaky breathing, Vegard stares down at him, taking pleasure in the ecstasy expression he carries. He doesn’t dare to blink, knowing it will disappear as soon as the bliss starts to dissipate. At the moment, his uneven breathing must be the only thing in common with Bård, chest moving in a similar manner.  

He pulls out, collapsing on the bed next to Bård. As the recent times they’ve had sex, there are no kisses exchanged between the two. It’s as if Bård didn’t want to touch him once they’re done. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. He feels himself softening, muscles slowly starting to relax. His head rolls to his right and his gaze falls on the man at his side, on locks of golden hair splattered across the pillow. Having a similar expression on his face, Bård’s hands are now clasped together over his bare chest. His eyes are open, but he’s idly staring at some spot on the plain ceiling above them.

“Have you gotten tired?” Vegard asks him, eyes refusing to leave what’s visible of his brother’s body.

“Yeah,” Bård mumbles while fixing the pillows under his head. “I’m actually quite tired, I want to sleep.”

 _You know that’s not what I mean_ , Vegard wants to say, yet he remains silent. Still, Bård refuses to meet his gaze.

After staring at him for a little more, Vegard gets to his feet. The floor is cold under his bare feet, but he doesn’t flinch at the contact. Rushed steps lead him to the bathroom, where the first thing he does is observe himself in the mirror. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he looks quite thinner than usual. Vegard opens the sink, splashing some cold water on his face. He scrubs it, hoping it would ease his mind, somehow. There’s no surprise when all it does is make his hot skin cool down a little.

He takes some steps to throw the used condom to the bin, cleaning himself with a wet cloth afterwards. His stomach twitches, remembering the moment Bård demanded him to wear condoms. ‘ _It’s better to have protection, right?_ ’ Bård’s plain voice in that moment still echoes in the back of his mind. The funny thing is— when the two were younger and their relationship was just beginning to turn sexual, Bård was the one to say the need for condoms shouldn’t exist between them. ‘ _I trust you,_ ’ were his warm words. And they sounded so honest. A shot of pain pierces his heart as Vegard chuckles to himself, comparing the Bård he knew to the Bård that now rests naked between the covers of his bed.

Taking another look at the mirror, he’s most certainly sex is the only thing tying them together. And yet, there are no hickeys to cover anymore, no loving looks to hide from strangers, no lingering touches. If something, all that’s left between them is the carnal desire that hasn’t extinguished yet.

Is Bård using him for mere sexual pleasure? Or does he have sex with Vegard out of mere habit?

Either way, Vegard can’t push him away. He can’t say no to the only thing keeping them together, even if it’s what will eventually bring them down. It’s not healthy, it’s not right, but that’s the destructive way vices work— right? Perhaps, that’s what it is, they’re both addicted— Vegard is addicted to Bård, whilst Bård is addicted to sex. And like a drug, they’ll keep on using each other to fill their necessities, even if that ends up destroying them.

Nonetheless, as he idly looks at his reflection on the mirror, Vegard wonders if that’s what he should feel— _used._

When he’s back into the bedroom, the darkness swallows Bård’s body. The younger brother hasn’t even bothered to clean himself, something that’s gotten usual between them. In the death of the night, Vegard has to blink several times to figure out his silhouette. He falls right back on his side of the bed, not bothering to take what should be their duvet. He reaches for a considerably smaller blanket he keeps under the pillow, throwing it over the bottom half of his naked body. He wants to reach over, to touch the skin that once felt so warm under his fingertips.

But he can’t.

So instead, he speaks again.

“Bård?”

“What?”

“Have you grown tired?” He tries again, voice reduced to a whisper. “Have you grown tired of me yet?”

There’s a moment of silence that doesn’t do any good to Vegard’s heart. His eyes remain fixed on Bård’s naked back, on the tiny freckles that he could pinpoint at any given moment, down to the dimples on his lower back that he never fails to notice. Vegard’s always loved how perfectly his thumbs fit there, but it’s been a long time since he’s done it. He misses it, being asleep with Bård’s body tangled around his own. Perhaps that’s what he’s expecting, for Bård to tell him he’s wrong and for things to go back as they used to be. However, when Vegard closes his eyes and opens them again, nothing has changed.

“No, Vegard,” he finally replies. The voice is uncaring, not a trace of affection left in it. “I haven’t.”

“Can you promise you haven’t?”

“Why do you need me to do that?”

He sighs. “I don’t know.”

“Then I don’t know, either.” He sounds so cold it makes a shiver run down Vegard’s spine. “Let’s just go to sleep, Vegard. We’ll talk about this later.”

“About what?” He asks, knowing the answer already.

“About anything you want us to. But I want to sleep now.”

“Okay,” Vegard mutters, mostly to himself. Could he raise his voice and demand him to explain why they’ve turned into this, Vegard would do it. But he stares at his brother’s back and there’s nothing left for him to add about it. “Goodnight, Bård.”

“Goodnight.”

He wants to believe in what Bård has said, more than anything else in the entire world, but he can’t. He feels it, those words are meant to hurt. It’s just own way of saying ‘ _yes, this has been the last straw, we need to put an end to this._ ’ And Vegard simply knows Bård doesn’t regret the indifferent way he spoke. He truly wants to think Bård’s words are honest, that he hasn’t grown sick of Vegard after all these years, but perhaps he’s tired, too. Tired of overlooking the nonchalant way Bård treats him, tired of searching for lips that don’t want to kiss him back, tired of being the only one trying to make it work.

There’s no mask to keep hiding the awful realisation of their unstoppable fate. Things have deteriorated, and they’ll keep rotting and falling apart until nothing, not even a tiny fragment of their relationship will be left. He could cry, but that wouldn’t fix a thing. He could confront Bård, but that’d eliminate the only thing holding them together. He could try many things as a last resort, but he won’t do them. And so, the only thing he can do is wait for time to tell what will be of them.

Vegard shivers, but the room isn’t cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration comes from [this O-Fag clip](http://estherroday.tumblr.com/post/116204949479/irony-or-not-this-is-adorable-especially) and [this Ylvis 4 interview](https://youtu.be/dq8Z4BI8db0?t=1m20s). I apologise for the sadness.


End file.
